


Potty Mouth

by vala (valinorean)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Era, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-16
Updated: 2010-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valinorean/pseuds/vala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy is a Potty Mouth. It has absolutely nothing to do with Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potty Mouth

Draco Malfoy is a potty mouth.

It had absolutely nothing to do with Harry Potter.

It all started when Draco was very young. He had walked in on his father and godfather who were in the middle of a heated discussion in one of the Manor's many sitting rooms. Apparently they were discussing something he wasn’t allowed to hear.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

"Draco, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Get him the fuck out, Lucius."

Draco learned that day that _fuck_ was a word grownups use when they were extremely angry.

He first used the word when he was eight. He had been taking a luxurious bath when that annoying house-elf, whom he vaguely remembered as Dobby, mistakenly entered at the wrong time and happened upon a very naked Draco Malfoy. He had covered his embarrassment with anger and reprimanded the house-elf for showing itself to a master of the house without being summoned. He then ended his tirade by shouting: "Now get the fuck out!"

It had felt fantastic.

When he entered Hogwarts, his use of the word only escalated. He learned that the older Slytherins use the word mainly when talking about Gryffindors. It made perfect sense since Gryffindors usually made them angry. Gryffindors and their fucking bravery. Gryffindors and their fucking friendships. Gryffindors and their fucking red and gold!

“Obviously, Weasley’s a fucking arse.”

“Bet you Longbottom can fuck up that potion five minutes into the brew.”

The word, however, did not only confine itself to slurs against Gryffindors. When Draco heard Marcus Flint commenting about Alicia Spinnet’s “fucking fine arse” while peeking into the girl’s Quidditch showers, he learned that he could also use it as a compliment (although truth be told Draco had been confused at first whether it was really a compliment or not, but there's no accounting for taste where Flint was involved). And so Draco’s use for the word expanded.

“Bell may be fucking hot, but Wood is definitely fucking hotter.”

“They may be fucking gingers, but the Weasley twins’ aim with the Bludger is fucking amazing!”

As he grew older, Draco kept the habit to the point that he could no longer say anything outside classes without using the word. He even used it once while addressing a professor, but it did not faze him one bit, even with the weeklong detention and fifty house points taken from Slytherin.

“Well that’s all fucking fine if you want to fucking fail your fucking NEWTs.”

“Nobody gives a flying fuck about fucking Divinations, fucking useless as it is.”

At that point, Draco had never really realized how much the word became deeply ingrained into his vocabulary. Quite frankly, it was an upfront to his pureblood upbringing to be caught with such foul language coming from a Malfoy’s mouth, but as it is, he hardly ever noticed using it. His mother would probably faint if she ever hears him say such profanities. Hell, his entire _family tree_ would turn in their graves, starting from great-great-great-and-conservative-grand

mother Ursula Black.

It was only when Harry fucking Potter confronted him that he realized his excessive use of the word. Of course only Potter would dare call him on it. Only Potter had the fucking balls to ever say anything about him.

“You have a very filthy mouth, Malfoy,” Potter said one evening when the Saviour caught him alone in a deserted hall.

“If you must fucking know, my mouth is perfectly fucking clean. I brush three fucking times a day and I have a fucking fantastic mouthwash potion to ensure fresh fucking breath twenty-four hours a fucking day.”

A small smile played on the edge of Potter’s lips. “I’m sure you have a very minty fresh breath.” Potter started moving closer, and by reflex Draco started backing away.

There was something in the Gryffindor’s eyes that Draco couldn’t put his finger on. There was that _gleam_ that almost looked like— _Merlin, it can’t be!_ He’d seen that look before. It was the same look in Flint’s eyes when he talked about the Gryffindor Chaser. It was the look in Pansy’s eyes when she found fresh boys for her devious deeds. It was the same look in Blaise’s eyes when he found fresh boys for _his_ devious deeds.

 _Fuck._

Draco had half a mind to flee before anything more untoward happened. Because _fuck_ if the object many a wank fantasy of his was staring at him like _that_ , then no one could blame him if this altercation ended with Draco jumping Potter right there and then. Besides, he reasoned, it was Potter who accosted him in the first place.

Draco took another cautious step back, something that did not escape Potter’s notice. His rival’s features suddenly changed from merely interested to completely predatory. It was then that Draco made up his mind to flee but was hindered by a cold and solid presence behind him.

The wall. _Fuck._

Draco closed his eyes in surrender. But whether it was to his desires or the other boy’s, it didn’t matter. They were obviously both the same thing anyway. He felt Potter’s body draw real close—close enough to heat the space between them. Two strong hands grabbed his arms to keep him in place, and a warm puff of breath ghosted over his cheek.

“I never said that your filthy mouth is a bad thing, you know,” came the soft whisper in his delicate ear, sending shivers down his spine. “In fact,” the sultry voice continued, “I’d like to hear more of it.”

And at that moment, it did not matter who moved first. Nothing existed except the feel of Potter’s lips on his own, and the sweet taste of his tongue inside the blond’s mouth. It was quick, clumsy, wet, brilliant and addicting. All too soon, the kiss ended.

Then a hand slowly made its way down from his arm to his hips, then ever so gently, ghosted along the front of his trousers.

“Fuck,” came the barely audible whisper from the Slytherin.

Potter chuckled. “I do love the way you say that,” he said, his mouth travelling along Draco’s jaw and nibbling at the skin above his pulse.

“Sweet fucking Merlin. Potter you’re a fucking tease,” Draco said in a pained voice, clearly wanting more.

“Am I?” Potter smirked and cupped the prominent bulge in Draco’s trousers as the Slytherin whimpered a _Fucking..oh!_ Potter proceeded to massage slowly, while the blond sagged against the wall, his knees ready to give out, and with more than the occasional _Oh fuck_ escaping from his lips.

Draco grabbed the front of Potter’s shirt, more to keep himself from sliding to the floor in an embarrassing heap than anything else. He dragged the other boy closer, trying futilely to block the pleasures from his lower regions, said through gritted teeth, “What the fuck are you playing at Potter?” It came out more breathless than he intended to.

“I think it’s quite obvious, don’t you?” Harry said, giving Draco’s erection a hard squeeze to emphasize his point.

“Fucking _hell_ , Potter!” Draco croaked as a hand slid inside the waistband of his trousers, grabbing his cock and enveloping it in heat, and squeezed. The hand removed itself and began to unbutton Draco’s now extremely tight trousers, allowing his cock to spring free from its confines. He shivered at the waft of the sudden cold air, until the warm press of the other boy’s thighs heated him up again. The hand on his cock began to earnestly slide up and down his shaft.

Draco tried to capture Potter’s mouth with his own once more, but Potter held him steadily back with a hand on his chest. “If you do that, how will I hear those lovely words from your mouth?” Potter asked, his mouth ghosting on Draco’s earlobe, then trailed hot breath down his neck and collarbones, before dipping his tongue to taste.

“Oh fuck you Potter, _fuck_. You’re too— _fuck_!” The feel of Potter’s slightly calloused hands was like nothing he’d ever felt before. The strokes were strong and sure. The rhythm was perfect. The slight burn of dry friction took Draco to new heights as he writhe involuntarily against the Gryffindor.

“Dry, fucking dry. _Fuck fuck_...” rasped Draco.

“But you love it don’t you.” Draco nodded helplessly to the seductive voice, realizing too late how embarrassingly vulnerable that made him. A palm hovered in front of his mouth and in the haze of desire, he barely heard the command, “Lick.”

Draco complied immediately, leaving a trail of saliva on the other boy’s palm and sucking on the digits to coat them one by one. The hand moved lower eventually and replaced the other that was delicately pumping him. The slick saliva mixed with the precome weeping from his tip slowly eased the dry friction. All the while the incoherent babble of Draco’s _Fuck Potter_ , _Sweet fucking Salazar_ , _Don’t fucking stop_ , and _Fuck you, you fucking fuck_ could be heard.

This time the slick and lubricated hand glided smoothly, increasing the speed and in no time at all, Draco was coming in a series of gasps and _Fuck_ s on to Potter’s sure hands. Potter slowly tugged, coaxing the last of his come out, draining him completely. The come soaked hand was raised slowly and Potter’s tongue flicked out to taste it. Potter grinned, apparently pleased at seeing the Slytherin come undone.

“Such a lovely filthy mouth,” Potter whispered, leaning in to capture the Slytherin’s mouth in his, giving it a thorough sweep before finally releasing it. “If you come up to the tower, I promise you’ll be swearing so much more than that.” With that, the raven-haired boy turned to walk back up to the Gryffindor tower.

Yes, Draco Malfoy is a potty mouth.

And it had everything to do with Harry Potter.


End file.
